


Don't Shoot the Messenger

by snapegirl



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 19:56:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10556814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snapegirl/pseuds/snapegirl
Summary: There's almost nothing Henrik Hanssen wouldn't do to help Serena Campbell, including being a carrier pigeon. For future references, however, he should probably draw the line at hiking.AKA where Serena sends Bernie letters with bits and bobs during her sabbatical.





	

Ric was the first one that noticed.

A man who didn’t usually take weekends off suddenly emailed him a five-month schedule with occasional days blacked out and no explanation.

“It’s delegation.” That was his only justification when he finally charged into his office, demanding answers.

“Delegation?!”

“Unless you would want to persuade Ms Naylor do some of the administrative work? You are the one who applied for the Deputy CEO job in the first place.”

Ric grumbled some obligatory complaint but let the issue go eventually. Maybe Hanssen put his reluctance to relinquish control down to the reason the recent fiascoes. Truth be told, he seemed a bit…odd ever since he was back from where ever he went during that gardening leave. Nothing he did was in moderation anymore: too kind, and at times, too harsh. Serena going on her sabbatical was no doubt another blow.

Then there was what happened after that.

According to an agency nurse, Hanssen came into the hospital one day with his nose bright red and even peeling; Dom told him during an operation that he bumped into him in the car park carrying a wooden crate of something clinking against each other; he himself witnessed him walking gingerly into a meeting then promptly _falling asleep_ in said meeting (in his defense, the speaker was droning on in a monotonous voice about ward hygiene management of all things - they were doctors after all)

No one knew how or why, and no one dared to find out what happened. Well, the hospital was still standing so who cared what he did in his off time but it didn’t stop the rumour mills from sprouting tales like he went to France for a skin exchange. Dom particularly enjoyed the one about a weekend escape that Hanssen spent with a blonde model and it tired him out.

 

* * *

 

Eventually, it was Bernie who found out by accident.

It started out with two months after Serena left, a jar of black sand and a letter written in a familiar script.

_Bernie My Dearest,_

_Do you know that Iceland has three black sand beaches? It was a glorious day off from the refugee camp._

_It is still hard not to think about Elinor when someone loses their family but I like to think I am getting there. You would think it is the same, throwing myself in surgery. Actually, some of the black clouds seem to be lifting._

_Something remains the same. I miss you. So many things about you: your laugh, working with you in the ward, same theatre and most of all, next to me at night._

_How’s AAU? And the house? Both still standing? Jason is well with Allan I assume. Is Jasmine still working on the ward, she had every right to transfer._

_I don’t think I am ready to come back just yet, I hope you would understand. Please remember I am thinking of you every second._

_Yours always,_

_Serena x_

Bernie wanted to scream at the thin piece of paper. There was no return address on the envelop, there was nothing at all on it actually, other than her name _Bernie_ written on it, in the same loopy writing she came to adore. _How can she answer all those questions if there is no way of contacting her!_

Her mind was too preoccupied in rereading the letter to consider who delivered the package.

 

* * *

 

One month later, it was an entire crate of shiraz. Another envelope with only her name written on it, another letter.

_Bernie my love,_

_I am at the Amalfi Coast, finally. Of course I would be thinking how it would be like if Ellie had come with me that day. Probably a massive row._

_Then I wonder what would it be to travel with you. Would you start packing only at the last minute and haphazardly throwing everything in the bag? Would I plan everything to the dot when you just want to wander around freely in the city, hand-in-hand, until we get hopelessly lost?_

_One day, I would take you away, a weekend away so that neither of us can remember anything else other than each other. One day, when I no longer wake up in tears, I promise, but it is not the time yet. I love you but please remember I am,_

_Yours Forever,_

_Serena x_

_P.S. Tell Jason I miss him._

_P.P.S. I made those wine._

She wanted to hate Serena, she really wanted to but all she could do was thinking about them walking in the streets of Berlin, she would point out different interesting parts of the city to Serena.

Bernie put the letter in the drawer where the first one was, folded and unfolded, read and reread. A trauma call came in and she soon forgot to investigate who sent the letter. She kept three bottles: one for herself and she put the other two on the mantle. She split the other three with the ward after a particularly gruelling day.

 

* * *

 

She looked forward to the next letter so when there was a small cardboard box on her desk another eight weeks later, she eagerly opened it.

A slightly battered radio, Nothing else.

Raf found her glaring at it when he came in to grab a file. He laughed after pondering for half a minute.

“It’s a pun, Bernie, or the physical manifestation of it.” He chortled.

“Cut the crap, Raf. So what does she mean?”

“Radio silence.” He gestured to the radio, and then to the empty space on her desk. “Radio. Silence.”

“Ha. Ha.” She grabbed the ward statistic report and stormed out of the office. Hanssen needed this done by yesterday.

He looked slightly disheveled when he told her to come in but she didn’t have the mood to comment on it. Until he stood up to grab his folder and something slipped out of it.

An envelop.

“What’s that?” She picked it from his desk. _Bernie._

“I…ah.” He sat back down and took off his glasses. “I was instructed to put it on your desk in another half an hour.”

“You - By Serena?!” She demanded as she hurriedly wrenched open the flap.

 _A date and a time._ It was dated about two weeks from now.

“Dare I ask?” he asked and she showed him the letter. “Ah. That appears to be very close to  the date she provided with HR of the ending of her sabbatical.”

Bernie realised that was the date and time of her return flight. “So you were in contact with her.”

“She is afraid that if she sees you, she might be persuaded to come back before the suitable time.”

She slumped back into the seat. “How is she?”

“Her sense of humour is back, as you can see.” He elaborated as he caught her unimpressed expression. “She is more…bouyant, lifted in spirit. A changed woman but she is still Serena Campbell I knew when I first appointed her.”

“Fine - um - Thank you.” she waved the envelop while he shook his head.

“She is a dear friend and losing a child is no small matter.” He straightened his askew tie.

“You have run yourself ragged.” She commented before rising from her seat.

“I am fine.” he put his glasses back. “For the record, I spent three rather unpleasant days in the New Forest.”

She looked down at the strip of paper. _Train time, not plane._

 

* * *

 

Serena and her texted each other first so that Bernie could confirm it was indeed her estimated train arrival time but she didn’t want to call her. Bernie was determined that the first time she heard Serena Campbell’s voice would be when she saw her.

It was awkward to say the very least. Bernie came to the train station alone, Jason hated the station or indeed trains. Too noisy he said, too many people.

“Tell me everything,” Serena stood in front of her in the train station, hovered near her but didn’t reach out to hug her or even to take her hand. Maybe she didn’t want to anymore. “All the questions I asked, I want to hear them from you.”

So she told her everything: what happened afterwards, Jasmine, Jason, Morven, Cameron, Fletch’s encounter with Artie Churnik’s daughter, the new Professor on Keller who looked oddly like the doctor in the period drama that Serena liked, even Eddie the pigeon.

By the time she has finished, two bottles of that Italian shiraz were demolished by the pair of them and she felt a heavy stinging behind her eyes. Serena watched her steadily, her eyes unwavering.

“Where do we go from here?” Bernie asked hoarsely.

“It is not up to me, I left you alone to bear everything. I am not the same person from when we first started. We can try to continue from where we left off, on that rooftop, talking about Eddie. Or we could get to know each other again.”

“You want to? You didn’t touch me at the station.”

“Oh Bernie. I didn’t want to push something that wasn’t exactly stable. I want you, of course I want you. But do you want me?”

She saw those earnest eyes and remembered sitting on a deckchair on the rooftop. By surging forward and pressed a searing but chaste kiss on Serena’s lips, she gave an answer.

They came into work together the Monday after, holding hands tightly, Serena smiling tentatively while Bernie only had eyes for her.

Two people were waiting at the hospital entrance: Hanssen and Jasmine in navy blue scrubs. She enveloped both women in a huge hug. “Good to see you back, Ms Campbell. Ms Wol - Bernie.”

Hanssen only had one comment for Serena before following Jasmine back inside.

“Do not ever take me hiking again.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am not very good at puns


End file.
